


I'll love you still

by Matrix97121



Series: We deserve a softer story, my love [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clexa, Everybody Lives, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, and light angst, clarke and lexa are really gay for each other as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matrix97121/pseuds/Matrix97121
Summary: Sometimes, in between the chaos of our world, time stills. Our lives pauses and I really don’t know what to do with myself. It’s strange, the quiet… It makes me restless.I’m not really used to be static anymore, I think. Being static reminds me of space, of the airlock door and my father floating, lost in between planets. Of a cell painted with untouchable dreams, of being trapped in a spaceship hurling to the ground. It makes me think of sterilized beds in Mount Weather, of restless pacing in a tent before war, of pressing a button and making a Mountain fall."Sometimes I wonder if my keryon isn’t too bruised for peace,” I can’t help myself saying.“Never,” Lexa says without a pause, her eyes on mine, unfaltering, and fingers woven with mine.--Clexa. Fix-it after 3x07 (Lexa is alive).
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: We deserve a softer story, my love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723576
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	I'll love you still

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is a clexa fix-it fic that completely ignores everything after 3x07.  
> Lexa is alive, if that isn't your cup of tea, deal with it or don't read ;) (seriously why did you click on a clexa link expecting any different?)
> 
> Disclaimer: The 100 aren't mine, they are the property of The CW and Jason Rothenberg (and they did such a waste with it... yes I'm still a little bit bitter). I only own the ideas of this fic.
> 
> Oh and translations of trigedasleng are at the end notes.

“ _Maybe wars aren’t made to be won. Maybe they’re meant to be continuous.”_

– _Sam Esmail, “Mr Robot” ; (but originally from George Orwell)._

* * *

Sometimes, in between the chaos of our world, time stills. Our lives pauses and I really don’t know what to do with myself. It’s strange, the quiet… It makes me restless.

I’m not really used to be static anymore, I think. Being static reminds me of space, of the airlock door and my father floating, lost in between planets. Of a cell painted with untouchable dreams, of being trapped in a spaceship hurling to the ground. It makes me think of sterilized beds in Mount Weather, of restless pacing in a tent before war, of pressing a button and making a Mountain fall, of powerlessly watching Lexa from the stand lines of an arena.

Being still, it makes remembering to breathe difficult. I don’t really know how to do it anymore, and everything seems to always go to shit every time I hit pause for a moment anyways. Maybe I’m a little broken now. I wonder what my dad would think of it, of me, now… But Lexa, she’s good at being still. Like it’s effortless. Fiercely standing ready for war, waiting for her opponent to make the first move, or sitting on her throne as if she owns the world. She’s a vision. _She makes it seem powerful._

And sometimes, it also makes her softer, like now. Her hair let down, watching Polis from her balcony in her nightgown, strong and soft, she’s a beautiful paradox that I would gladly try to discover for the rest of my life. Like an _x_ in a difficult equation. Like maybe _she_ was the answer all along.

Still, I can’t help but wonder… Would I be good at peace? Lexa would, I know it. She seems built to bring peace, or die trying. Maybe that’s our problem… What will happen to us when everything is _still_? Choosing someone during war isn’t the same as during peace. Could I handle peace? I really don’t know… Until now my track record doesn’t really inspire confidence…

* * *

Lexa turns around, staring at me with a questioning look.

“What’s on your mind, Clarke?”

“Nothing important,” I say, looking away.

Lexa frowns.

“You’re doing it again.” I throw her a questioning glance as she walks closer to me. “Looking worried, like your mind can’t rest,” she adds. “What is it?”

“I...” I swallows. “It’s just… sometimes I wonder… Lex, what will happen to us if peace comes?”

Lexa says nothing but her eyes don’t leave mine. It pushes me to continue.

“I mean… when we aren’t connected by loss, pain and war, will we still work? We met in times of war, betrayed each other for war and loved each other despite of war.” My voice wavers and I add in a whisper: “What will be left of us, for us, without war?”

I look away but suddenly Lexa’s hand is on my cheek and I can’t look anywhere but at her.

“Clarke,” she says my name softly, carefully almost. Like it’s water, or air. Like it’s necessary and precious. Her hand grounds me and the green of her eyes shines as she seems to read me.

“It’s been on your mind for a while, has it not?”

“Kind of, yes… I can’t seem to shake it away”.

My cheeks flush against my will, her fingertips tracing abstract patterns on them. She keeps looking at me, her fingers moving to push some of my hair behind one of my ears. She breathes audibly.

“I can’t promise you that we will live to see peace, but I will try with everything that I have, I promise you that. But you know, it will be new for me too,” Lexa says with a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “And I can honestly say that I wouldn’t want to discover it with anyone but you,” she finishes softly.

She looks nothing like Heda right now, she’s all _Lexa_ and she seems younger, so much _younger_. Her hands and her eyes are soft, as she promises me her heart, the only thing that’s _hers_. She smiles, eyes gently teasing, and adds:

“I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re good at war, you know?”

I can’t help but let out a small chuckle at that.

“Was it my dashing good looks then?”

One of her eyebrows rise slightly and then she shakes her head and teases:

“Well, in all the time that I’ve known you, you know that it isn’t that either.”

I should probably at least feign to be somewhat offended by the teasing dig, but I recognize this look on her: head shaking and raised eyebrow, with a sigh or a chuckle. It’s the _“I swear your skaikru words are_ _either strange or nonsensical_ _, Clarke”_ look. I like it on her, it’s kind of a look that is _mine_. And now that she actually knows some _skaikru_ idioms there is payback and teasing added, it’s somehow intimate. And I didn’t think that teaching or learning a language could feel like love, _but it does_. When Lexa teaches me _trigedasleng_ words into the night, pressing all the words she uses to see me into my skin; or when she patiently pronounces each _trigedasleng_ word for each fruit in the Polis gardens; it feels like _seeing her_. When I try ridiculous _skaikru_ pet names to make her laugh; or when I sing slightly off key the lyrics of songs dating from before the bombs that I remember listening with my dad; it also feels like _being seen by her_. And when she repeats conscientiously after me the names of the skeleton's bones because she says that I’m a healer so it’s important to me and so she wants to learn; and then when she says their equivalent in _trigedasleng_ or go fetch a _fisa_ to help find the right words; it feels like meeting somewhere in between. It feels like falling in love with her all over again…

Her hand still in my hair leaves to take the hand that I had on her hip. Both our hands press with each others, her palms are warm against mine. They remind me of her back, it’s like her life has been graved in them. Despite some scars and some slightly callous spots, she has soft hands for a warrior. And she’s so careful with them, as if wary of what they can do. But I’m not wary of them, never. I squeeze her hand and, serious again, she continues:

“I fell in love with you for who you are. Whether you have weapons in your bloody hands and warpaint on your face, or charcoal in your hand and fingertips pigmented like a rainbow,” her thumb traces patterns on my palm and she brings my hand up to press a soft kiss on it. “I’ll love you still,” she whispers against my skin before looking me in the eyes again. “ _Ai na hod in bilaik keryon_ , all of it. Scars and ghosts, fears and dreams, sorrows and joys.”

My breath catches.

“My hands have more blood on them than paint nowadays… Sometimes I wonder if my _keryon_ isn’t too bruised for peace,” I can’t help myself saying.

“Never,” Lexa says without a pause, her eyes on mine, unfaltering, and fingers woven with mine.

“How can you know that for sure?”

“If it is, then all of ours are too. I have too hope that we can still build something with them.”

“Since when are you the hoping type?” I ask her, surprised.

“Since you,” Lexa says with such honesty my breath catches one more time and it’s _“maybe we do”_ all over again that I hear through her words.

And maybe if I’m not afraid of what her hands can do, I should trust her and not be so scared of what mine can do anymore. My left thumb presses against her pulse point. It’s _steady_ , not slow or erratic, it’s constant. _She’s here_.

“I’ll love you still too, you know?”

Instead of answering, Lexa kisses me and it’s more than enough.

* * *

Being still with Lexa, it’s _easier_. Not always because, well, the world and our people don’t let us be still for too long. But in the in-between moments, my eyes somehow catches hers without realizing I was actually searching for them all along, and she makes me want to smile, to have longer with her. Longer than fleeting glances before war, longer than rushed smiles and kisses before leaving. And for once, I don’t want to run away, she makes me want to stay. Somehow, in this beautifully fucked up world going to war with her is less scary than leaving without her. Younger me would have laughed at my priorities... _But never learning Lexa in peace_ _time_ _is scarier._ It’s kind of daunting because if I have learned anything it’s that nothing lasts, but she makes me want to hope. Peace sounds so far away, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it, but peace with Lexa doesn’t scare me as much. _I want it._ I haven’t let myself want much things since I hit the ground, since my dad died even, but Lexa is _different_. She may be the only one I can’t, _won’t_ , stop myself wanting. For a future with her, I would do anything. It’s oddly calming to have at least one certainty.

My arms around her, I look at her. I think I will always be certain of her, if anything.

“Thank you,” I whisper against her lips.

“What for? I only spoke the truth.”

 _She's_ _sweet_. _So swee_ _t despite this world._ I want to treasure it, _treasure her_.

“For being you.”

Lexa smiles, her eyes shining. There isn't much green in space, and I couldn't have known that I had been starving for the green of her eyes all my life. But somehow, _I was._ Sometimes I want her to smile so much, so often, so I’d lose the count of her smiles, other times I want to never stop recording each one in my memory and preserve all of them on canvas.

“ _You’re home_ ,” I say reverently against her lips again.

She presses one of her hands on my heart and her tongue passes my lips, I can feel the _“you too”_.

* * *

“ _Here is the deepest secret nobody knows_

_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_

_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows_

_higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)_

_and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

_i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”_

– _E. E. Cummings, [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in], “Complete Poems: 1904-1962”._

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> _ Skaikru : Sky people.  
> _ Fisa : Healer.  
> _ Ai na hod in bilaik keryon : I’ll love your soul.  
> _ Keryon : Soul.
> 
> _____
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this one shot!  
> Oh and sorry in advance if there are some faults, English isn't my native language ;) But feel free to leave comments either in English or in French and I will be happy to answer!


End file.
